


we kiss on the mouth (but still cough down our sleeves)

by scepticallyopenminded



Series: 30 Day Lyrics Challenge - 2017 [5]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/F, Flashbacks, Post-Break Up, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 06:06:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12929115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scepticallyopenminded/pseuds/scepticallyopenminded
Summary: They were night and day to everyone who knew them well; Rosa quieter, rough around the edges, a take-no-shit attitude, not easily shocked, interested in the classics and staying as far from civilization as she could in New York. Amy, meanwhile, was hyper intelligent, wanted to make a difference as a key part of society, brilliant and dazzling and with a love of structure and organization. She’d always been that way, according to her parents, used to sort her Barbie’s clothes by type and color and fold them neatly. It was one of the many things Rosa loved her for.





	we kiss on the mouth (but still cough down our sleeves)

**Author's Note:**

> from Modest Mouse, Dramamine:
> 
> "we kiss on the mouth but still cough down our sleeves"
> 
> have some B-99 fun stuff i've always wanted to write a Rosa/Amy and decided to do it with this song so I hate myself a little bit rn but enjoy
> 
> **edit 12/6: omg I just got finished watching last night's b99 and how fucking coincidental that on the same night I post this ROSA DIAZ GETS A GIRLFRIEND y'all I'm so fucking happy rn #GiveRosaDiazAGirlfriend is a success HELP**
> 
> **edit 12/17: find the sequel "someone you'll never be"[here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13048947)**

Rosa stuffed her earbuds into her ears and pushed on her sunglasses, shrugging on her jacket as she rushed out the door. She was already late – shit – and this class marked attendance. She’d already missed one day at the beginning of the semester, and two weeks was finals; she couldn’t afford to miss another class in case they talked about the essay they’d be writing for their final research paper.

“Pres de la mer” came on as her feet hit the sidewalk, shivering as a cool breeze blew over her. Normally, she was a big fan of Arensky, possibly even planned to do her thesis around his work, and especially his later pieces always made her feel calm, but today she squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the next button. The song had always been a favorite of Amy’s.  

Today, already at nine-forty a.m., it didn’t seem like it was going to be a good day.

And her good days numbered less and less as time went on, it seemed. Rosa didn’t want to admit that her happiness depended on another person – she was independent, always had been, and beyond that she wanted to truly believe that her depression had alleviated over the years. But she knew and could name the exact period that her bad days had started outweighing her good ones again.

She sighed, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets as she arrived at the bus stop. She leaned against the shelter, the only other person an old woman who eyed her with some suspicion; not that it was unexpected, as she knew she had a resting bitch face to rival all others, and a penchant for black or other dark clothing, and her leather jacket was her pièce de résistance.

She closed her eyes again, swallowing down all those god damn feelings as she tried her best to, for one fucking day, not think about it.

*

_Six months earlier_

“I’m sorry,” was all that Amy said, looking down at the table in between her and Rosa and swallowing. For her benefit, Amy really _did_ look sorry, but all Rosa could do was stare at her girlfriend – _ex_ -girlfriend, fuck – unable to really see her but unable to do anything else, either. She could not believe this, could not believe that the last four years of her life were – what? Wasted wasn’t quite the right word, but she certainly didn’t feel like it could be described as anything else. Amy was supposed to be her last everything.

She looked down at the table too; Amy seemed genuine, tears in her eyes and voice rough as if she’d cried about this already, but then again it had taken Rosa walking in on Amy packing her stuff to get the story out of her.

“I’m not good at breakups,” had been her rebuttal to Rosa’s questions. _Not good at breakups_. Because that’s what this fucking well was, and that _hurt_. Fuck, but that hurt.

They’d met at sixteen, living on opposite sides of New York but both invested frequenters of the Metropolitan. Rosa because she felt calm there, and Amy because she was _cultured_ and _smart_ , or whatever. Rosa didn’t care. She saw a pretty girl with bright eyes and an even brighter future.

They’d moved in together right out of high school, having been dating at that point over a year and a half, and both looking to go to Brooklyn College, CUNY. Amy, for political science; Rosa, for music composition.

They were night and day to everyone who knew them well; Rosa quieter, rough around the edges, a take-no-shit attitude, not easily shocked, interested in the classics and staying as far from civilization as she could in New York. Amy, meanwhile, was hyper intelligent, wanted to make a difference as a key part of society, brilliant and dazzling and with a love of structure and organization. She’d always been that way, according to her parents, used to sort her Barbie’s clothes by type and color and fold them neatly. It was one of the many things Rosa loved her for.

“I just – I need – something else,” Amy continued, staring a fucking hole in their kitchen table – no, Rosa thought, _her_ kitchen table, because Amy was giving this up. Planned to be out of the apartment they’d shared for three years by the next morning.

And what the fuck did that even mean? “Something else”, just a nicer way of saying Rosa wasn’t doing it for her anymore. She was tired of Rosa, of the same old shit, that Rosa _bored_ her.

And Rosa couldn’t respond.

She didn’t know what to say, or how to say it, didn’t even really understand what she was feeling herself. Hurt. Like the floor had been dropped from underneath her and she was falling down a black hole toward nothingness. The dread was building in her stomach, threatening to swallow her whole. The realization dawning that tomorrow she would wake up and reach over and find nothing. And Rosa – she didn’t know how Amy had done it. Continued on like there was nothing wrong in their relationship. As far as Rosa knew, there wasn’t anything wrong. She’d believed that until now.

“I’m sorry,” Amy whispered again.

*

_Now_

The bus ride to campus was short, shorter than it would have been to take the subway. Rosa departed, double checking as she always did that she still had her phone, her wallet, her keys, and her bag; she’d forgotten one or the other one too many times on the bus not to make absolute sure she had them every time, now.

She rushed on toward the building her class was in – it was just past ten, if she hurried she might make it just in time to not be counted as late – when she saw it.

The flash of dark hair, followed by the prettiest brown eyes Rosa had ever seen, and _oh_.

Amy met her eyes, some ten feet away on the other side of the sidewalk, and they both froze, Amy’s eyes wide and Rosa’s heart stopping.

_Oh_.

Rosa sees Amy’s mouth move rather than hears what she says, her lips forming the words perfectly.

_I’m sorry_.

**Author's Note:**

> find me sometimes at [asocialfoxpaw](http://asocialfoxpaw.tumblr.com)


End file.
